


These Open Roads

by salakavala



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salakavala/pseuds/salakavala
Summary: A moment, after the victory from Corypheus. Bull considers a revelation.





	These Open Roads

The evening is warm in a way Skyhold’s air rarely is when Bull falls behind and takes a spot among the cheering crowd. Maybe it’s because of all the folk gathered in the courtyard, maybe it’s the victory, maybe it’s the anticipation of the feast ahead – but the air is warm. Shit, maybe it’s because the damned hole has vanished from the sky.

Bull doesn’t cheer, partly because the people are sort of cheering for him, too, so it’d be weird; and partly because it’d also be weird to cheer for the boss when he’s been allowed to get to know the person behind the Herald. Besides, when they’d heard the crowd, Varric asked her if they should all start singing now, and Killinar had said _no_ in no uncertain terms.

The rest of them stay on the courtyard when Inquisitor Lavellan continues her way up the stairs to the first landing where her advisors are waiting. They’re all smiling. Even Cullen looks more or less relaxed, which is a new. Could be half the reason for the increased whooping; Bull’s heard that bets have been placed about the Commander’s ability to ever shake off his speak-quickly-I’m-working face. Good to see that he’s able to wind down a bit now that their long-time objective is achieved.

It’s weird, though. They’ve been fighting Corypheus and his lackeys for over a year, almost two. No one to fight now, for the moment. At least no one who’d try to tear the whole world down. The ‘after’, an entirely abstract idea until now, is within their grasp.

Bull has never really thought about an after before. He’s had no need to. His afters have been pretty much on the scale of writing the report after the mission, or getting a fresh round of beer after Rocky starts singing. But now, now ‘after’ means a future without orders. He feels the novelty of it in his belly, a little bit.

A life without orders. He turns it around in his head. Yeah. Yeah, he’ll take that. For now, though, he narrows the ‘after’ down to the awaiting party. One step at a time.

The advisors of the Inquisition make a ceremonial bow to Lavellan, all in unison like they’ve practised it. They probably have, if Josephine’s had her say, and she always does.

A hand brushes his. Dorian has walked up to him, to his blind side. He hadn’t even noticed. That’s a first, but hey, he’s not a spy any more. He can take the liberty of slipping a bit now and then, in a place like this, for someone like Dorian. He’s made other exceptions for Dorian, what’s one more?

“Hey,” he says.

“Hello,” answers Dorian, and lifts his face to smile up at him. His grey eyes are bright, and his smile is small, gentle. Happy. Not secretive – actually, it’s open in a way that Dorian never lets show in public – but still, Bull can’t help feeling like it’s just for him, this side of Dorian, even in the middle of a loud crowd.

They don’t say anything else. They just stand there, side by side, watching as the Inquisitor turns from her advisors to her people and bows her head to them, and the crowd goes wild with cheering. The back of Dorian’s hand keeps brushing against the tips of Bull’s fingers. The contact is barely there, but somehow it feels much more significant than anything they’ve done, public or private. It feels intimate. Like an open little secret in the air between them.

Bull feels that in his belly, too. Feels a little light-headed with it.

It’s a funny feeling. To stand there with no shadows over tomorrow. Yeah, there’ll always be challenges, for all of them, but of different nature. More human-sized, instead of the greater truth of the Qun or the potential end of the world. They’ve all got their own paths to follow. Bull’s got no idea what to do with his.

The Inquisitor turns and climbs the rest of the stairs into the keep, to start the feast, and the crowd shifts. Dorian slips his fingers around Bull’s – carefully, keeping his touch light and his grip loose. Bull curls his own fingers around Dorian’s hand, squeezes a little. His heart makes a funny thud in his chest.

So maybe he doesn’t know crap about his future. Maybe it’s uncertain and blurry and open. But whatever it is, he holds it in his own hands now.

 

*


End file.
